


We Didn't Care A Thing About The Thunder

by K_T_Tara



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Child Abuse, F/M, First Love, Friendship, Mary Sue Poots, Semi high school fic, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:26:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_T_Tara/pseuds/K_T_Tara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Grant Ward first met Mary Sue Poots, he was seventeen and in a bad place. When Mary first met Grant, she was fifteen and with her seventh foster family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summer Sky Lit Up With Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm a sucker for AU's. And after listening to Toby Keith's 'Kissin in the Rain', I really couldn't help myself.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grant Ward was seventeen and in a bad place when he met her. Mary Sue Poots was fifteen and in her seventh foster home when she met him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I obviously love AU's too much. But alas, this is what I get for listening to Toby Keith's 'Kissin In The Rain' on repeat.

  

Mary Sue Poots thought it strange that a foster family bothered taking in a fifteen year old orphan. It was common knowledge that once you hit thirteen, you were unadoptable. Parents wanted younger kids, someone they could mold to their image, raise in the way they wanted. Teenagers were just too much trouble; they have a mind of their own, they rebel, and when you've been through the system like Mary had been, 'jaded' didn't really begin to cover it.

They'd send her back, just you wait. While the Mrs. (Mary didn't bother remembering names anymore; it was pointless)went over the rules of the house -and there were a lot- Mary was making a bet with herself in her head. ' _I bet they'll only keep me two, three months,'_ she guessed. It was the average, being sent back after only three months. The longest she'd ever been kept was six months, but she didn't like to think about that one time. The shortest was two weeks.

"And finally, and this is the most important," the missus finished her speech and snapped her fingers in front of Mary's face just to make sure she was listening," Don't ever, and I mean _ever_ , go near the Ward house." Mary perked up at that, her rebellious teenage mind changing 'don't' to 'do'.

"Why?" she asked, pretending to sound worried even though she was already planning to do the exact opposite. It wouldn't hurt to know what to expect, though.

The missus narrowed her eyes at her, as if sensing that it was all for show. "Just don't go, okay?" she preached," The Ward's are nothing but trouble, and a pretty girl like you will get eaten alive."

Mary's eyes flashed at the prospect of trouble.

* * *

 

It didn't take her long to find the Ward family. In fact, it was quite easy, as the rest of the town gave them quite a wide berth whenever one passed near. Three brothers, she found out, and there was a rumor that they had a sister, but whoever she was had already graduated and left town. Or so they say. There was one particularly nasty rumor that she was killed by the dad and buried in the back yard.

Mary saw the oldest brother first, on her first day at her new school. He was massive, tall and muscly for his age, and a linebacker on the varsity football team. Mary had had the fortune to be placed in a seat next to the school gossip, and had told her all the stories about the Wards when asked. In the hallway, the gossip pointed Maynard Ward out as he walked by, but Mary would've known who he was anyways. He had this permanent sneer on his face and this overall mean look to him, and no one dared go within five feet of him. Mary thought it pathetic how kids would press themselves against their lockers as he passed, as if they could disappear into the scenery. The gossip at Mary's side tugged her arm, trying to get her to move out of his way.

But Mary refused. ' _He's no different than the punks in Chicago,_ ' she remembered the multitude of gangs she'd run into during her fifth foster home.

So she stood her ground as he neared, until she was the only one not clearing a path for him. She just stood a little ways from her locker, not enough to be in the center of the hall, but enough to be obvious that she wasn't moving. Instead, she was looking at her phone, deciding that maybe she'd hack the school's database and find out what she could on the Wards. (The school gossip was never accurate anyways, everyone knew that) Her eyes were glued to the small screen, but she was aware enough that when he passed, there was a slight pause in his steps. Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw Maynard turn his head (she didn't see enough to see what kind of face he made at her) and look at her for a moment, before continuing on his way.

"Are you _crazy_?" the gossip yelped in hushed tones as soon as the giant was far enough away," You just turned yourself into a target."

Mary just shrugged it off. She wouldn't be here long enough to be in any real trouble anyways; she might as well make this fun while it lasted.

* * *

 

Next, she saw Dana Ward. Due to her little snooping, she recognized him on the spot from his school picture. He was smaller in person, she thought, watching as he hobbled into third period class on crutches. He had a bruise on his left cheek too, but no one was saying anything on how he got either injuries. Quiet as a mouse, he went to his seat, which happened to be in the very back where Mary liked to sit too. Once taking his seat, he pulled the next desk chair over so that he could rest his casted leg on it and stretch himself out.

Mary saw how his wide eyes darted to her nervously, before realizing she was looking right back and he fidgeted in his seat. He hunched his shoulders and opened his textbook to hide his face in. Just then, his stomach growled. Loudly.

Dana curled further into himself, embarrassed by the sounds his stomach was making and Mary took pity on the boy. Glancing around and seeing that they still had two minutes til class started and the teacher wasn't present yet. So reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of her many energy bars. "Here," she handed it to him, feeling her heart break when he stared at her in horror. She waved it a little at him. "It's peanut butter chocolate," she sang, holding it closer to him.

Dana stared at her for the longest minute of her life, and Mary was distinctly aware that the rest of the class was eyeing this encounter like hyenas. Then softly, he whispered," Peanut butter's my favorite." Tentatively, his skinny little hand (Mary tried to pretend she didn't see how a few fingers were swollen and red) reached out and accepted the energy bar. She smiled widely at him, and pulling out another energy bar she opened it up with relish," Well, my favorite's oreo. If you want, you can have all the peanut butter ones." In truth, Mary loved anything with chocolate, but Dana didn't need to know that. When he smiled shyly back at her, Mary decided that maybe tomorrow she'd bring a peanut butter sandwich for him.

For the next two periods, Dana didn't leave her side. And that was okay with Mary, she thought he was adorable. He loved to hear her talk about the orphanage she came from, about the other cities she's seen, and when she told him what family she was staying with, he admitted to knowing who they were.

"They're nice," he said quietly," But not as nice as you."

Mary beamed at him," You're not so bad yourself, Dana."

* * *

 

Grant Ward found her first. At lunchtime, he cornered her in an empty hallway, just outside of the cafeteria. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed at her, using his height over her as an advantage to intimidate her. It didn't work. Mary just looked coolly up at him, taking in his features and knowing that this the middle Ward brother. He was tall, like Maynard, but thinner. More lean and wiry. And right now, he looked pissed off.

"Going to lunch," she hummed, not at all fazed. If he tried to lay a hand on her, she'd knee him in the balls then spray him in the eyes with the pepper spray she kept on her key chain.

"Stay away from us," he ordered at her, and Mary  thought she detected a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Why should I?" she countered, and  flinched when he punched the wall next to her head, growling in frustration. Immediately, her hand went to the small can of pepper spray, fingering it in case she needed to use it. Grant's eyes darted down, saw her hand holding the spray can, then returned to her face. "Do you think a little thing like pepper spray is going to stop Maynard?" his voice came out in a quiet hiss, as if he was afraid someone might overhear. She thought it funny, surely they'd be more worried about how he was trapping her against the wall than him whispering at her.

"You've already got his attention this morning with your little stunt," he warned her," and if he sees you with Dana, it'll only be trouble for you."

Mary glared at him, fire in her eyes," I can be friends with Dana if I damn well want to!"

Grant opened his mouth to probably yell at her more, but she didn't let him. "He's sweet, and adorable, and you and Maynard are just a couple of brutes. Now if you don't get off me right now, I'm going to pepper spray you so much you'll be blind for a week."

His head jerked back, as if just now realizing that he had literally been caging her with his own larger body. But his fist remained on the wall by her head. He glared even more at her," Just stay the hell-"

"Grant?"

Both he and Mary flinched when they heard Dana's voice, Grant pushing away from her and the wall to take a few steps back. Dana was at the end of the hall, his brown eyes wide and flickering back and forth between her and his brother. He shifted awkwardly on his crutches, before settling his eyes on his older brother. "Umm, can you-" he stammered, eyes suddenly looking down at the floor," I can't… I can't hold the tray and crutches at the same time."

Grant seemed to understand instantly, and if Mary hadn't been watching his face like a hawk, she would've missed the look of guilt flash across it. But he had eyes only for his brother," Yeah, okay. Let's go get some lunch." Dana smiled widely, wider than Mary had seen him, and nodded happily.

Before Grant walked away from her, he turned to her one last time and grunted," Just remember what I said."

As he walked towards his brother, that's when Mary saw it. Bruises… on the back of Grant's neck, four quarter sized  circles lined in a row. They looked old, and probably only had a few days left before they disappeared altogether.  And to her horror, she recognized the shape. They were fingerprints. Someone had wrapped their -apparently large- hand around Grant's neck and squeezed hard enough to cause bruising.

' _Bruises on both younger brothers…_ ' she thought. Then realized she hadn't seen a single mark on the oldest brother.

* * *

 

During lunch, Mary kept an eye out for the Ward brothers, which really wasn't that hard. Luckily, Maynard was nowhere in sight; seniors had different lunchtimes. She found them on the far side of the cafeteria, presumably heading to where they normally sat. Dana hobbled in front, and Grant followed behind, holding both his own and Dana's tray of food.

Mary trailed after them.

They sat at an empty table, which really was a waste in Mary's opinion, as the tables were very large and could seat plenty of kids. But apparently, that was the Ward table and so no one dared near it. No one except her, of course.

Grant was facing away from her, so he didn't see her approach and jumped only when she placed her tray next to his. "What the fuck?" he looked up from his food just in time to see her sit down right next to him," What are _you_ doing here?"

"I go to school here," she said matter of factly, popping the top off her juice.

"Go sit somewhere else."

"Nope," she shot back, making a popping sound with her lips," If I want to sit here, I'm going to sit here."

He was probably glaring at her, probably looked murderous too, but she was too busy stirring together her walking taco. She did however notice his hand clench into a fist. "Do you have a death wish?" he growled.

Mary looked up at him, then at Dana who was pushing his food around on his tray and pointedly ignoring them. "No," she answered," I'm just not afraid of you."

Dana glanced up then, his eyes shooting back and forth between the two of them again. Grant gritted his teeth at her response. Finally, Dana spoke up," Can she sit with us, Grant?" His voice sounded so little, like that one kid from that one story 'Please sir, may I have some more?', that Mary thought it was just heart breaking.

And don't think she didn't notice the guilt flash across Grant's face again, and he just seemed to… deflate when Dana asked him that. Mary had the suspicion that if Dana asked it, Grant would give him anything. Still, he didn't say anything. "Please?" Dana asked again," She's nice and I like her."

"Aww, I like you too, sweetie," Mary smiled at him.

Finally, Grant relented. " _Fine_ ," he grumbled and taking a vicious bite out of his apple, he didn't speak to either of them for the rest of lunch.

* * *

 

On day two, Mary did the same thing. Dana didn't even have to ask Grant if she could sit with them; she just sat down and handed Dana the peanut butter sandwich she brought specifically for him. (And dare she say, there might've been a look of approval on Grant's face) Dana was ecstatic, thanking her profusely, and just like that Grant's angry demeanor just sort of… melted away.

"He told you he loves peanut butter, didn't he?" he huffed amusedly, munching on his own plain turkey and cheese sandwich.

"Yup," she grinned back at him, glad that he hadn't tried to scare her off again," We've established that his favorite is peanut butter and mine is oreo. What's yours?"

He looked at her, confused," Excuse me?"

Mary just opened up one of her oreo energy bars (she forgot to bring some lunch money today) and slid a peanut butter chocolate one to Dana across the table. "Dana gets all the peanut butter ones, I get oreo," she explained," So that leaves you with either mint chocolate chip, or s'mores." She held up one of each to show him.

Grant just narrowed his eyes at, seeing that her bag was filled with the energy bars. "Did you rob a convenience store or something?"

Mary threw the mint chocolate chip one at him.

* * *

 

On day four, Mary found out that Grant walks Dana to school every morning. Her alarm never went off and so she was running late for school. As she hopped up the steps to the front entrance, trying to knock a rock out of her sandals, she noticed two people ambling up the sidewalk. At the top of the stairs, she turned around and saw Dana and Grant slowly walking to school. Dana was slow on his crutches, and Mary wondered just how far they had to walk. But no matter how slow Dana meandered along, Grant remained faithfully at his side, carrying both backpacks.

She hopped back down the steps, coming to a stop in front of the two of them. It startled them, and Grant quickly looked around to see if there was anyone else around. Or perhaps he was checking for Maynard.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, satisfied that no one saw her approach them.

Mary ignored him and instead said good morning to Dana. He smiled tiredly back at her and mumbled a hi, but otherwise didn't seem too enthusiastic to see her. Mary shrugged it off, thinking he was just tired from the long walk to school. And it was too early, definitely too early. ' _Why does school have to start at 7 in the morning?_ ' she lamented.

"Get to class," Grant tried to yell at her, and that's when Mary noticed that his voice sounded a little raspy.

She eyed him," What's wrong with your voice?"

It may have just been her imagination, but she thought she saw a worried expression on his face. But all too soon it changed to his usual angry demeanor. "It's nothing," he bit out, and now that Mary was listening for it, his voice really did sound raspy and hoarse.

He obviously didn't want to talk about it, so she let the issue drop.

* * *

 

At lunch, when she sat next to them, Grant barely put up a fight about her sitting there. Indeed, he barely touched his food, saying he wasn’t hungry.

And if Mary noticed that he was still wearing his jacket indoors, zipped up as high as it would go, she didn't mention it.

* * *

 

The next day, his energy seemed to return, and he took every chance to try and drive her off. At this point, Mary came to expect it, and had great fun rebutting all of his attempts. For every time he ordered her to get lost and leave them alone, she just said no. For every excuse he had, calling her annoying, that she'd get in trouble, that Dana only liked her because of her damn energy bars, she countered each and every one.

During lunch, they fought again; Grant trying to scare her away and Mary calmly listening without a care in the world. Dana sat on the other side of the table, his head going back and forth between them like watching a ping-pong match.

* * *

 

A week later, Mary bumped into Maynard. It was completely by accident, she just walked out of the girls bathroom a little bit too fast. And walked straight into the big scary Ward brother, knocking his coffee to the ground. Whatever chatter may have been going on in the hallway quieted instantly and every eye turned to her.

Mary stared up at Maynard with fearful eyes, feeling like an insect as he turned that sneer onto her. "Watch where you're going, you little bitch," he snarled at her, and to Mary it sounded like a wild animal about to eat its prey. Then, his hand lashed out.

Somehow, and Mary thanked her lucky stars that she had fast reflexes, she ducked down in time to avoid the punch surely aimed at her face. She didn't wait around for his next attack, and she took off running. He yelled at her to come back, calling her a bitch and a cunt and a whole slew of terrible words. But she just kept running as fast as she could until she couldn't hear him any more.

* * *

 

He looked for her at lunch. Just as Mary stepped foot in the cafeteria, she spotted the larger Ward standing in the center, looking around as if searching for someone. Some part of her knew he was looking for her.

"Get down," someone yanked on her hand, forcing her to crouch by the wall and hiding half behind a pillar. Whoever it was shoved a old, worn out sweatshirt at her," Put this on and pull the hood up. Hide your hair and don't look in his direction."

It was Grant. "Wha-" Mary started to ask why he was helping her, but he just glared at her and hissed at her to do what she was told. While she did so, he kept watch, making sure that Maynard didn't come over there. "Done," she announced, and he turned back to inspect her. She pulled the hood up and hid her hair, just as he instructed, and he nodded approvingly.

"The auditorium," he told her," Now."

At her defiant look, he flicked her on the nose," For once in your life, do what I say and go." Then he stood up and strolled out from behind the pillar. "Run," he jerked his head at her, then walked towards the tables filled with kids. Mary saw the instant Maynard spotted his brother. With a glare that could almost kill, Maynard headed straight for his brother, who ducked behind a pillar just in time to avoid him. Grant walked around the other side, calm as could be, and that forced Maynard to turn in his direction and Mary realized that he was now facing away from her.

She ran for the auditorium.

* * *

 

The school auditorium was a dump, that was for sure. ' _Poor drama class kids,_ ' she pitied the kids who had to use this stage for plays and concerts. A part of her worried the platform would give out under her feet as soon as she stepped onto it. And it was _dusty_ in here; when she pulled the hood back and shook her hair out, it stirred up a cloud of dust and sent her into a coughing fit.

"Mary?" someone spoke up quietly from behind one of the ancient red curtains," Is that you?"

Mary tilted her head, trying to see behind the curtain," Dana?" She walked around the corner and then she saw him. He was sitting on a speaker, munching on an energy bar. She saw the green wrapper, and knew it was Grant's. Besides, she saw him eat his peanut butter one during fourth period.

He grinned when he saw her come into view," You're okay, good. I'm glad Grant found you in time."

Shaking her head in confusion, Mary sat on another speaker," Yeah, about that. Why did he do that?" She tugged at the overly large sweatshirt," He made me put this on and told me to run here."

"Maynard," was Dana's answer between bites," he told everyone," chew," he was going to teach some girl," chew," a lesson at lunch," chew," for spilling his coffee." He swallowed his bite, then grimaced," Grant figured out it had to be you he was talking about. You're the only one who doesn't get out of Maynard's way."

She sighed deeply; great, now she's got a psychopath out for her blood. All because she spilled his stupid coffee. "I was half expecting him to show up outside one of my classes."

"He doesn't know your schedule," Dana simply said.

"What about you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dana took another bite of Grant's energy bar, thinking while he chewed and swallowed. With a shake of his head, he answered," He doesn't know our schedules either. We burn them at the beginning of the school year."

That just raised a thousand more questions.

But at that moment, Grant walked around the curtain, panting from exertion. "We're eating lunch in here until he calms down," he announced, sitting with a huff on the floor. Then he announced he was taking a ten minute nap, and laid on the floor at her and Dana's feet, just like that.

' _What the hell?'_ Mary was baffled.

The next day, Grant came to school with a black eye and swollen cheek.

* * *

 

Turns out, 'we' now included her. It started when the day after the coffee incident, Grant dragged her off to the auditorium to have lunch with him and Dana. Then she noticed that she'd run into him in the hallways. Like _all_ the time. Seriously, did he not go to class? It seemed like everywhere Mary turned, Grant was there, waiting to escort her and Dana to their next classes.

But most importantly, he stopped trying to convince her to leave. "I knew I'd grow on you," she teased, feeling brave enough to bump his arm with her shoulder. One of his eyebrows rose in a perfect arch, that she was a little jealous.

"Maynard could beat you to a pulp for all I care," he snorted," I'm doing this for Dana."

She didn't believe him for a second. Deep down, she knew he actually cared.

* * *

 

A month later, she was proven right.

In that time, Dana's leg healed and the crutches went away. He still limped a little bit, but no one commented on it. Mary finally figured out that they were being abused and the main abuser was Maynard and their father, and confronted Grant about it. "Forget you ever saw that," he just said simply, when he came to school one day with a sweater on in 79 degree weather. Mary had pulled up the hem to his shirt, saw the bruises, before he could push her away. "How long?" she gasped.

He glared at her. "I can take it." The more she pressured him, told him to go to the authorities, he deflected her.

"Everybody already knows," he finally admitted," But no one will do anything." He huffed, a bitter chuckle," Our parents are very convincing when they lie. And Maynard's getting a full ride to college on a football scholarship; no one wants to risk losing that."

"But Grant…" she gaped at him, her eyes darting back to his now covered chest," What about you and Dana?" She had only seen a glimpse of the damage to his body, but what else had he been hiding under his clothes all this time? And Dana? By now, she was able to piece together that Dana's broken leg hadn't come from falling out of a tree. ("- _pushed_ out of the tree," Grant eventually told her.)

"It used to be worse," he told her, his dark eyes flickering up to hers," Dana used to get hurt much worse. Maynard targeted him because he was small and weak, and couldn't protect himself."

"But you protect Dana."

His face darkened and his voice lowered to a whisper," I do now…" Then seeing her scared expression, he reassured her," I won't let him do the same to you. Don't worry."

While it made her feel safer, knowing that Grant would be there to protect both her and Dana, a part of her felt sick knowing that to do so he would put himself right in the line of fire.

* * *

 

Three days before the last day of school, Grant didn't show up. Mary stood at those front steps until she was ten minutes later for first period, but the two Ward brothers didn't walk up that sidewalk to meet her. She didn't see Dana until fourth period, when he strolled in with a late note from his mother. (It was forged; she later found out that all school paperwork was actually filled out by Grant because their actual mother couldn't be bothered with it.)

"Grant's at home," he whispered to Mary when he sat down," He can't come today."

For the rest of the school day, all she felt was a sick feeling in her stomach, imagining all the things Maynard or their dad could've done to Grant.

* * *

 

After school, she followed Dana home. He insisted she didn't, begged her even, but she was adamant about seeing Grant. Demanded it. As for Dana's fear about Maynard being home, Mary just smiled. She may have spread a rumor (and encourage gossip girl to as well) that someone was planning to throw a party down by the river, in celebration of upcoming graduation. Maynard, being a senior and on the football team, couldn’t resist.

The Ward house was on the outskirts of town, and in truth it was more of a mini mansion. ' _Wow_ ,' Mary was in awe just from looking at it. From the looks of it, the Wards were 'old money' and that explained why they got away with beating their children. It sickened Mary, that just because someone has a lot of money they can do horrible things.

Behind the house was acres and acres of green land, grassy hills and meadows that seemed to stretch on forever. In any other sense, it would be beautiful and Mary would give anything to live there. But with the current family… not so much.

"Da should be asleep," Dana reassured her, keeping his voice to a whisper because it was apparently forbidden to have loud voices in this house," He drank a lot last night, and probably won't wake up til another hour or so." Well, wasn't that assuring, Mary thought sarcastically.

Walking on tiptoes throughout the surprisingly empty house (there were no signs of a family living here: no pictures, no little knick-knacks, just basic furniture and most of this covered with white sheets) Dana led her to the bedrooms upstairs. The stairs creaked, but the younger Ward brothers had discovered the exact spots where no sound was made. "Step where I step," he whispered, before pressing his foot to the farthest left of the first step. Then he skipped the second step, placing his right foot two thirds to the right. So on it went, all up the fifteen steps.

When they pushed open the bedroom door, and Mary saw Grant sitting on his bed, he was furious. "What the fuck are you _doing_ here?!" he hissed at her, mindful to keep his voice semi-quiet. He flew off the bed, his book falling to the floor and reached her in three steps. (Dana snuck into the room while Grant was distracted by Mary) His hand clamped around her arm, then poking his head out the door to make sure no one else was in the hallway, forcefully dragged her inside. He closed the door behind them with a soft click before rounding on her. "No one knows you're here, right?" he demanded, then in the next breath he whirled on Dana," How could you bring her here, Dana?"

"She made me!" Dana defended.

Grant faced her again, waiting to hear her excuse, but Mary couldn't utter a sound. Oh God, _his face_! It was bloody and all cut up, with a long jagged cut going all the way from his temple to his cheek. Another split his entire cheek. None were bandaged or looked like they'd been taken care of at all. Then his shoulder… he had his left arm in a makeshift sling and his shoulder was a terrifying mixture of black and purple.

True, with Grant without a shirt on, she could see _all_ of his bruises and scars, some that horrified her.

Noticing her horrified stare, Grant glanced down and realized he didn't have a shirt on. "Fuck," he swore and yanked a sweatshirt out of a drawer. With one hand (and quite adept at it) he pulled it over his head and pushed his right arm through, but not his left, leaving it in its sling under the fabric.

"What _happened_?" she squeaked, her voice sounding near hysterical.

Grant sneered at her," Maynard won the fight. What did you expect?"

"He threw him from the second story window," Dana spoke up, a mere whisper but they heard him all the same. Grant snapped at Dana to shut it, but Mary heard and a gasp escaped her.

Grant turned back to her," It's just a few scratches and a dislocated shoulder. I'll be fine."

This time, she pursed her lips and snapped back at him," So said the damn black knight from Monty Python." Before either brother could ask who and what that was, she ordered him to sit down on the bed. "Dana, go get some neosporin and bandaids," she commanded, pushing Grant backwards until he sat down," I've got to clean up this bastard's face before it gets infected."

"Don't have any," he mumbled.

Honestly, she shouldn't have been surprised. "Hydrogen peroxide?"

Both shook their heads. Sighing, she amended," Warm water and a clean cloth, please."

That, he could do and Dana was out the door the next moment. Leaving the two of them in the room together. Alone. With each other.

Grant was the first to break the silence. "Why did you come here, Mary?" he asked quietly," You know how dangerous it is here." God, she couldn't look at his eyes without being drawn in. Grant's eyes were a warm amber color, just on this side of brown and Mary wondered if there was a name for that color. For a brown with flecks of honey in them, shining an amber color when the light hit them just right.

She whispered back, her eyes unable to leave his gaze," I was worried about you. When Dana said you couldn't come to school, I…" She faltered, remembering all the terrible things she had imagined," I kept thinking of what could've happened to you. I kept imaging these horrible things that Maynard or your dad could've done."

She was inching closer to him, though she was unaware of it. All she could see were his eyes, boring into her. It wasn't until she felt his hand on her arm, rubbing up and down lightly. "You were worried about me?" he whispered.

With a contained sniffle, she nodded. "I had to come see for myself that you were okay."

An upturn of the corners of his lips, the closest thing to a smile she'd ever seen on him, was his response to her concern. She felt his fingers tighten on her arm, an assuring squeeze, and unbidden she took a step closer to him. Next thing she knew, he tugged her forward until he could press his forehead into her lower stomach. ' _What_?' she didn't know what to make of it, but then he just whimpered out," Thank you."

She stood frozen in place, shocked. This was the first time Grant had willingly initiated contact with her. Why was he thanking her for anyway; he was just yelling at her for coming here.

"Grant?" she called his name, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. Also for the first time, he didn't flinch away from her touch. But he was trembling under her fingertips, the force of whatever emotion he was feeling beginning to overwhelm him, and she wished there was something she could do.

Then he mumbled against her stomach, and Mary could've sworn he said," No one's ever worried about me before."

 _'Oh, Grant_ ,' her breath caught in her throat and she choked on the swell of heartbreak rising up. For the short time she's known him, he was always such a rough guy, the middle brother who had to be tough enough to protect his younger brother from his older one. Always angry and brutish, pushing everyone away with harsh words and threats of bodily harm. It wasn't until Mary pushed past those that she learned he was just trying to protect everyone, believing that if they got close to him they made themselves a target for Maynard's wrath.

But who protected Grant? He was so busy worrying about Dana, about her, that no one bothered to care about him. There was no one to tend to his wounds, to wipe away all the grime and put a bandage over his hurt, to hold him close and tell him he wasn't alone.

Mary had wished there was something she could do for him, and this… this she could do. "I'll always worry about you," she whispered back to him, and she lifted the arm he wasn't holding onto so she could run it lightly through his hair. There they stayed while they waited for Dana to return, Grant taking comfort in just her presence, and Mary promising him that she'd always care for him no matter what.

* * *

 

Once school ended, Mary spent all her free time Grant and Dana. The missus wanted her to get a summer job, but she brushed her requests off like dust on her shoulder. It wasn’t like she'd be here long anyways; she wanted to enjoy her time here while she could. So in the morning, she would sneak out to go the old abandoned Mickelson farm a full mile out of town. But she didn't mind the walk, as long as they were far enough away from Maynard and anyone else who might disapprove of their friendship. There, in the quiet countryside, they could do whatever they wanted. Run through the old apple orchards that long since became overgrown and untameable, eating as many apples as they wanted. Climb the rafters of the barn and swing from the rope that Grant found and tied there.

It was also there that Mary first kissed Grant. It was sunset and they were sitting up in the hay loft, watching the sun go down through the huge window-like opening. With his strength, Grant had pushed the sliding doors open, the wheels creaking in their rusty tracks. But it was a beautiful view and the three of them sat down to watch. Mary was nestled between the two brothers, contentedly leaning on Grant while Dana rested his head on her shoulder. When Grant commented that he wanted to freeze this moment in time, she just leaned up and pressed her lips to his cheek, agreeing with him.

He turned a brilliant shade of red, but she liked the look on him.

* * *

 

A few weeks later, Mary woke up to the sound of little pebbles bouncing off her window. Scrambling out of bed, she threw open the window fully prepared to give whoever it was a piece of her mind. But the insult and curse words froze on her tongue when she saw Grant standing below her window. "Grant!" she hush-yelled at him," It's the middle of the night, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged, and was that a blanket draped over his arm? "Want to watch stars with me?" he asked, and that just confused her even more. Watch stars with him? Since when did Grant like to watch stars?

"Who are you and what have you done with Grant?" she demanded, trying to keep the smile off her face. It was cute how he hunched his shoulders, embarrassed for the first time she'd ever seen him.

"I read in a book somewhere that girls like that sort of thing," he mumbled but she heard him just the same. It made her grin. It was so _Grant Ward_ , that he took cues from a book because he just didn't know how to act around normal human beings.

"Grant Ward," she cooed," are you trying to woo me?"

As it turns out, he was, and Mary was proud to say that it worked. The next minute she was climbing out the window. They didn't go to the Mickelson farm -it was too far away- so they laid out the blanket on a hill a quarter mile from her foster house, just past the tree line. Hours passed, Mary cuddled up to his side, and they tried to find as many constellations as they could. Like the gentleman he was (but more likely he feared the consequences if someone discovered them), he made sure she made it back home well before sunrise.

And just before he left, she kissed him on the cheek and said she had a wonderful time.

* * *

 

Everything came to a head just a month later. Just like all bad things, it came suddenly and Mary was nowhere prepared for it. As if the world had to follow some lame cliché, it was storming.

It had been cloudy and windy all day, but they hadn't expected the rain to come until tomorrow. So it caught them off guard when she and Grant were walking back from the library. For a while, it was fun and Mary laughed happily, hiding the books under her shirt as they ran back to her foster home. He chased after her, a smile even on his face too, and she had such fun darting out of his reach every time it looked like his fingers were about to clasp around her jacket.

By the time they reached her house, both were soaking wet and Mary was out of breath from laughing and running at the same time. Her hair was plastered to her face and her clothes were sopping wet, and the books probably weren't any better. But she couldn't care less, because he was still smiling. A big silly grin and combine with his drenched hair almost covering his eyes he just looked goofy and wonderful and her heart swelled. Impulsive like always, she didn't think twice about leaning forward and pressing her lips against his.

Before he could respond -he froze up anyways- she pulled back and grinned at the starstruck look on his face. Then she danced away, skipping through puddles until she reached the front door. Turning around, she saw Grant still half a block away, rooted to the spot. She waved at him and hollered," You'd better kiss me back tomorrow!" and grinned like a maniac when he waved back. He might've shouted something in return, but at that moment lightning flashed brightly and a crack of thunder drowned out his voice.

The door flew open and Mary almost stumbled, seeing the missus standing there with a harsh expression. ' _Oh shit,_ ' Mary went wide eyed, like deer in the headlights wide eyed, unable to move when the missus peered around her and saw Grant's form walking away. Then she turned her glare onto Mary," I've told you a thousand times to stay away from that boy!"

Actually, it had only been 57 times, and the most recent had been yesterday. But no matter how many times she argued with her, the missus just wouldn't listen. This time was no different, and Mary just tuned her out as she was ushered into the house. The lecture was always the same, and Mary really didn't want to hear all the reasons why Grant Ward was such a terrible person. None of them were true anyways.

It was when they stepped into the kitchen, and Mary saw Sister Margaret from St. Agnes Orphanage, that she halted in her steps and felt her heart stop. "What?" she gasped, but no other sound would come out of her mouth. The books fell to the floor with a squelching thud and it was the loudest sound in the room. Sister Margaret had the decency to look apologetic, as she always did when she came to take Mary away. "You're sending me back?" her eyes cut over to the mister and missus, her eyes half accusing and half heartbroken.

She doesn't know why she was surprised. After all, she full expected this, even after the three month mark had come and gone. She just wished… she had a little warning.

The missus opened her mouth to talk some more, but her husband quieted her with a hand on her shoulder. He, out of everyone, looked the most apologetic and he stepped forward to explain to Mary. "It's not that we don't want you here," he began," We just want what's best for you, Mary, and we can't give that to you." His voice was calm, soothing, and Mary had always liked him more than the missus. Unlike his wife, he was a mountain; steady, collected, and never lost his temper. He'd just listen patiently while missus would scold Mary, not taking a side in the argument, and would calmly point out pros and cons as they arose. Afterwards, he would offer to make Mary some pancakes with chocolate chips.

Out of all the foster dads she's ever had, he was her favorite.

Right now, she hated him just as much as she hated the missus. " 'What's best for me'?" she echoed, her voice scathing and hurt," You just don't want me. Admit it, I'm not a good fit."

"That's not-" he defended, but she wouldn't let him.

"You didn't even have the decency to _tell_ me!" she screamed at him, at the missus, as Sister Margaret, at all the adults who tossed her around like she was just some toy and not a real person," You could've at least given me a chance to get ready, to pack my things, to-" She faltered, her voice cracking," to say goodbye." Oh God, she wouldn't get to say goodbye to Dana, to Grant. And right after she finally kissed him, after she promised to see him tomorrow.

What would he think? Tomorrow he'd get up, go to the Mickelson farm like always, and wait for her. What would he think when she never showed up? Would he come looking for her, or think she abandoned him just like his sister did?

"That's why we didn't tell you," the missus said, for once her voice quiet and a bit guilty," We knew you'd want to stay, to be with that boy."

Mary screamed at her," Why the hell do you hate him so damn much?! He's done _nothing_ wrong! You're just so stuck up with your nose in the air that you can't even see that he's a good person who gets treated like shit!"

The missus' face turned red, a sign she was angry and about to yell back, but once again her husband stopped her. "There is nothing wrong with Grant Ward," he said loudly, louder and more firm than Mary had ever heard him speak. Then his voice softened," It's his family we're worried about. They're poison, Mary, and there's nothing we can do for those boys, but we can at least save you from them."

"You'll never have a real relationship with him," he continued," You two are always so scared to be caught together, always hiding and running off to who knows where, and that's not healthy and it's not safe. For either of you."

But she would not listen, shaking her head back and fort, her wet hair hitting her in the face. "I…I can't," she choked," I can't just _leave_." Not without saying goodbye. She couldn't do that to Grant, could never break his heart like that.

Sister Margaret leaned forward, saying quietly to her," I'm afraid we have to leave tonight. The plane leaves from Boston tomorrow morning."

"No!" she shouted, stepping away from all of them," I have to say goodbye. I…" There were tears building up in her eyes. "I have to go." Then she ran out, ignoring the adults yelling after her.

* * *

 

The storm had built into a thunderstorm in that short amount of time. Rain slapped hard in her face as she ran through the streets, looking for Grant. It was falling so heavy and thick, that she could barely see through the falling water. The only visibility she had came from the lightning flashing across the sky every few seconds.

She caught up to him a few blocks from his housed. For some ungodly reason he was walking, in no hurry to get out of the rain. He was instead kicking a can with a certain kind of determination that suggested he was planning on kicking it all the way home. "Grant!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

He didn't hear her over the thunder.

It took her screaming his name two more times before he heard her. By then she was nearly upon him and she could see the bewildered look on his face when he turned around and saw her sprinting towards her. Her name was on his lips, no doubt about to ask her what the hell she was doing out in this storm.

He was just _right there_ and this was probably going to be the last time she ever saw him before Sister Margaret dragged her back to Texas and there were just so many things she still wanted to tell him. So with all the desperation of the situation, all the fear in her head, all the love in her heart, she took his face in her hands and brought his mouth to hers.

His responsiveness took her surprise, for her honestly thought he'd freeze up again, but completely on instinct his hands came up and held her face the same way she was holding his. For Mary, this was all about showing him everything she couldn't say, everything she wouldn't get the chance to say. She wanted to tell him that he may be a broken man from a completely messed up family, but he showed her how to truly live and to be grateful for the things in life that she loved. She wanted him to know that he made her feel alive and how he taught her that some things in life are worth fighting for, especially physically. She wanted to tell him that watching him protect her and Dana with his life and soul made her want to fight too, to protect him too, that he gave her the courage to not be afraid.

For Grant, it was about showing her all the things he couldn't find the words for. He wanted to tell her that she was the only one to care about him the way she did, and though he thought he wasn't worth it he cherished it with all his soul. He wanted her to know that she gave him reason to keep on going, to face Maynard and his father and not wish for death. He wanted to tell her that cherished _her_ with all his heart, wanted to one day be the kind of man she could be seen with and not fear what others say.

The need for oxygen was the only reason they broke apart. Mary stared at him, panting from both the kiss and all the emotions still bubbling up within her. His eyes were blown wide and dark, staring at her with something she couldn't quite name but she liked the way it looked on him. The rain poured over them, pushing his hair over his face and wanting to see his whole face, she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back. She pushed aside the warm feeling she felt in her gut when he leaned into her touch.

She had to tell him. Right here, right now, before it tore her apart, before she lost the courage and ran away. He deserved more than that, for her to disappear forever. "I'm leaving," she choked out, gasping for air past the lump in her throat. It crept up her windpipe, strangled her around the neck, and tightened when his face fell.

"… what?"

By now, she was sobbing and crying, though her tears got lost in the rain. "They're sending me back. Back to Texas."

Break her heart clean in two and burn the pieces, and it would've hurt less than seeing the look on his face. It was equal parts horror, anguish, and traumatized. "When?"

She sobbed even more," Now."

His grip on her was hard and unforgiving as he pulled her closer to him, as if he could hold onto her forever. She wanted him to, she didn't want him to let go, and her hands clenched in his soaking wet sweater. He just held her tighter, wrapping her up in his strong arms, his deceivingly strong arms. He said something, but at that moment there was a crack of lightning and thunder.

"What did you say?" she yelled, trying to be heard over the storm.

Then his lips were at her ear and clear as day, his voice," You'd better come back." Gripping her face in his hands, their breath mingling in the rain, he repeated," You come back, you hear me?"

She nodded, a faint smile mixing with her tears. "I will," she promised," I'll come back. But you'd better be here, waiting."

He kissed her again in answer.


	2. Soaking Wet, Staring In Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary comes back, but to what?

Mary Sue Poots was sixteen and a half when she ran away from St. Agnes Orphanage. A full year after she was sent back from Massachusetts. She hitch-hiked her way halfway across America, and four grueling months later she got there. ' _I did it_ ,' she thought in victory as soon as she stepped foot in that small, backwater town. So excited to see Grant and Dana, she ran the entire way to the Ward house…

…only to find that it had been burned to the ground eight months ago. Nothing but the stone foundation remained of the once grand mansion, burned black and nothing more than a skeleton. Dana had run away soon after, and no one ever found out where he went. And Grant… she searched and hacked furiously from her phone, sitting on the curb in front of what used to be the Ward house.

He had been the one to burn the place down, which had put Maynard in the hospital. Mary read in horror that six months ago, the juvenile prison center he had been sent to was attacked by mercenaries. Several criminals escaped and Grant Ward…

She broke down crying, weeping right there on the street. Grant Ward had been killed in the prison raid…

* * *

 

Mary was seventeen when she hit rock bottom in New York City. She was hacking her way through just to survive, hiring out her skills and admittedly, tended to drown her sorrows in alcohol. That's how Miles Lydon found her. He took her in, taught her even more computer science and got her to give up her drinking ways.

When she turned eighteen, in celebration Miles taught her how to completely erase an identity. The first one she erased was her own. "What do you want to be called then?" he asked her," Since technically 'Mary Sue Poots' doesn't exist any more."

The girl once known as Mary had thought it over. She remembered the last time she saw Grant, who was probably the only guy she would ever truly love. It had been storming that night, strong and fierce like a hurricane, with lightning and thunder and passion in the air. She wanted a name in rememberance of that night, in honor of Grant and all that he meant to her. "I want my name to be Skye," she declared.

"No last name?" he rose an eyebrow.

In truth, she almost chose her name to be Skye Ward. But in addition to it sounding just plain odd, she didn't feel that she had earned that name yet. Not until she was as strong as Grant, not until she was able to protect those she loved with her life. "No, just Skye."

* * *

 

(When Grant Ward was twenty two, he was accepted into the prestigious -and widely _unknown_ \- SHIELD Ops Academy and therefore had access to a thousand and one more things he did growing up. The most prominent being the Communication Academy students.

"You want to do a search for some girl in Texas?" Freddy from Communications asked skeptically, still a little surprised that a newbie from the Ops Academy was even talking to him. The Ops students were notorious for being pricks and thinking they were better than everyone else, so it came at much a surprise when one of them bothered to sneak off campus and into Communications. Unable to navigate the new school, Ward had stopped at the receptionist desk and quite desperately, asked who he could talk to about finding a friend he lost a long time ago.

It took some needling, but the woman at the desk eventually sighed and pointed him to Freddy, the male dorms RA.

"Alright, what's her name?" Freddy sighed -Ward called him Fred, even though he kept telling him to just call him Freddy- and booted up his computer.

"Mary Sue Poots."

Freddy snorted," Seriously? 'Mary Sue Poots'?"

Ward scowled at him," Shut up. It wasn't her choice of a name either." Although, the first time Grant had heard her full name, he too had snorted and Mary threw her spoon at him for it.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Freddy turned back to his computer," Alright, alright. Easy, Tiger." Grant tried to wait patiently while Freddy worked, searching over official documents and birth certificates and school registrations. He even did a search on St. Agnes Orphanage, located in the busy city of Houston. After ten minutes, Freddy leaned back in his seat with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry man," he genuinely looked sorry," But there's no Mary Sue Poots anywhere in Texas."

Grant paled and leaned over so he could look at the screen, even though he didn't understand a word of it. "What about the orphanage?" he demanded. She had to be there, she had to be!

"Found it. There's no record of a Mary Sue, Poots or otherwise, living there."

"Go back further," he ordered," Maybe she got adopted."

"… This is going back thirty years, Ward…"

"Look in Massachusetts. She was there, I _know_ she was," desperation was starting to bleed into Grant's voice, but he didn't care. He had to find her. He promised he'd wait for her in Massachusetts, that he'd be there when she came back. Though he knew that day had probably come and gone -five years was a long time- he knew if he could just _find_ her, could just explain everything to her…

He just needed to find her.

He gave Freddy the name of his old school; she was only there a month or two, but that was long enough for her to be on record, right? Yet once again, Freddy came up short. There was no Mary Sue Poots. Nothing, it was like she never existed…

"I don't know what to tell you," Freddy was confounded, scratching his chin," I've never had this happen before." He glanced at Ward, saw him sit in the chair with a distraught and grieving face," You sure she's real?"

It wasn't often, but everyone knew that sometimes the Ops brought in messed up kids, broken kids who didn't have a firm grasp on reality and so made the perfect trainees to be assassins. Grant Ward didn't seem like one of those kids, he seemed to be fairly level-headed, but maybe Freddy was too quick to judge.

Grant just hung his head in his hands," She was real, trust me. She was _real_."

Freddy felt bad for the guy. He really did. "Was she your girlfriend or something?"

Grant grimaced, though it may have been a bitter smile," She was the closest thing I've ever had to it.")

* * *

 

Many years later, in a blue van in a back alley, behind a little café in Los Angeles, Skye was kidnapped by two strange men in black suits.

* * *

 

"You don't look that big," the younger one smirked at her little threat after he took the bag off her head. Skye tried to glare at him, really she did, but she was a little distracted by how damn hot he looked. ' _Cheekbones like that should be illegal,'_ she swore. But she was still a woman, and he was a very fine male specimen. Even if he was an asshole.

' _If Grant were here, he'd kick his ass_ ,' she hummed to herself. It was a recurring occurrence by now; she thought of Grant Ward all the time. It was probably the only reason she's gotten herself out of trouble so much, because she always asked herself,' _What would Grant do?'_

The older one, the balding one, smiled reassuringly at her and distracted her from Agent Sexy Douchebag over here. "Sorry about the lack of finesse," he apologized," Agent Ward here has had a little history with your group, the Rising Tide."

' _Wait, what?'_ Skye blanked, and she swore her heart skipped a beat,' _Agent who now?'_ Did he say 'Ward'? As in the Ward family? No, he… he couldn't have. There weren't any other Wards, they were all gone. Grant was dead, and this man was too small to be Maynard. Maybe… she felt a swell of hope in her chest, maybe this was Dana.

Her eyes flickered back and forth between the two men. Could this menacing guy really be Dana? "What are you-" she tried to ask, but he cut her off.

"Alright," he leaned forward, practically snarling at her," There are two ways we can do this." Skye tried not to flinch. Nope! This was _definitely_ not Dana! Dana didn't have a mean bone in his body, he couldn't make that brutish face even if his life _depended_ on it.

But Grant… Grant could pull off mean. He could be nasty and threatening and scary when he wanted to. There was one way to be sure. Where Dana couldn't be mean, Grant couldn't do jokes. They went over his head completely, he didn't get them and most the time, he didn't even know it was supposed to be a joke. She tried to smile at him -' _Please, God, let it be him,_ \- and snarked," Is one of them going to be the 'easy way'?"

"No," he growled, and she almost cried. ' _Hallelujah_!'

Oh sweet baby Jesus, it really _was_ him! And _my_ , did he grow up! Skye stared at him, completely unfazed by his rough attitude now that she knew it was him, and instead let herself soak in the new -and sexy- Grant Ward. She thought he was cute when he was seventeen, but now… her eyes drifted down his torso, he was a fucking Adonis.

She was so preoccupied with him that when the other one asked," What's your name?" she just answered habitually," Skye."

Then Grant, with that darling little snarl and scrunched up nose that showed he was getting annoyed, leaned on his hands, invading her personal space," What's your _real_ name?" And she couldn't help but smirk; he didn't recognize her either. And why would he? She grew up too. Skye was no longer that scrawny little kid, she had curves now. Her hair was long and curly now, not that shoulder length, straightened brown crap she had as a teenager. And it only took her a decade or so, but she finally learned how to accentuate her face with make-up.

The other guy was talking, probably about Mike, but she really couldn't care right now. Here was Grant Ward, right in front of her, living and breathing…

And apparently getting a little flustered by all her staring. He made to move away, to step around and put the table between them, but she called out to him," Grant."

Both men fell silent at her plea, gaping at her like she was some wild animal. "How do you know my name?" Grant questioned, stepping a little bit closer to his superior officer. That confirmed it for her. ' _Oh my God,'_ she about died, he _admitted_ it. Admitted his name was Grant Ward and everything and he was there, he was _alive_ , and oh god she just had to tell him.

"Mary," she breathed," Mary Sue." She didn't say 'Poots'; she hated the name and frankly she felt a little embarrassed just speaking it out loud. Hopefully, 'Mary Sue' would be enough to jog his memory.

It did. He flinched -quite visibly- and his jaw dropped wide open. "How do you know that name?" he demanded quietly, and he was scared and nervous. She could tell by the way his shoulders drew up to his ears, as if preparing for a blow.

"You promised you'd wait for me to come back," she scolded him and she tried to frown, she really did. The bastard broke her heart damnit. But she was so damn relieved and happy to see him, that she couldn't stop smiling.

He rounded the table in one second, hauled her from the chair and up into his arms in the next, and then his mouth was settled over hers in a kiss she hadn't felt since she was fifteen. 

And oh my- Did he sure learn how to _kiss_!

Skye hummed happily, her cuffed hands coming up to grasp his shirt -and feel just how firm his body was- while he held her tighter. Fifteen fucking years was too damn long; she missed this, missed _him_. And judging by the way he kissed her, so passionate, so thoroughly, she could tell he missed her too. 

They ignored the yelling and orders from the other man, who sounded more bewildered than angry. Skye was transported to all those years ago, when she kissed him in that storm. Thunder and lightning crashed all around them, rain blinding the entire street, and it was just them. Skye kissed him deeply, enjoying the way he wrapped her in his strong arms and kissed her with all the heart he did as a seventeen year old troublemaker. This… this was perfect, this made her want to stay with him and pretend the outside world didn't exist. And for one glorious moment, it didn't.

She thanked whatever higher being that was listening for bringing them back together. "I am _never_ letting you go again," he whispered against her lips, and Skye smiled. She was 100% okay with that. 


End file.
